Slinking in the shadows, I watch intently as she makes her way down the empty street.
She's nervous, and she should be; I'm close, and she can feel my presence.
She can't see me, but the chill in her bones never lies. We've crossed paths before, you see; the car accident when she was 18, the lollipop in her throat at 5.
Someone always managed to pluck her from my grasp, but not this time.
The drunk driver weaving his way home, isn't far; his course will bring them together soon.
At last, there's no one around to stop me.